


heaven could fall and angels swarm but hell is ours to face

by Laburnum26



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, welp I fell for these bastards so hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-06-24 13:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laburnum26/pseuds/Laburnum26
Summary: Due to a series of chance encounters, the Archangel Gabriel and the Prince of Hell realise that they might have more in common than either of them would have thought at first.Five times Gabriel and Beelzebub accidentally meet each other and one time when it's not accidental anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> aaaah i know, i suck at summeries, welp  
> also, since this is my first fic after my exams, (the writing gears in my head were so rusty that i swear i could hear them creak and splinter as i was writing this xD) so if something seems off, sorry about that, it's due to me not having written anything in English since months.  
> title is from true love is violent by allie x

The Lord of the Flies was not in a good mood. Ever since Armaggeddon failed (five excruciatingly long days passed in horror), hell has broken loose in Satan’s empire. Well, more loose than it actually is down there. The demons were all confused, angry and sad (more than usual) and riots broke out every now and then, demanding the higher authorities (aka Beelzebub) to fix it all and get Armaggeddon back on track. 

Now, it’s not that the Lord of the Flies wasn’t a competent leader. She was in fact, one of the most competent ones due to her apathique nature and ability to keep her cool in the most unexpected situations, like a postponed Apocalipse. (She really hoped that it has only been postponed and not cancelled since that would get her into a lot of trouble.)

But she just couldn’t bear it any more. All those demons, screaming and wailing and pressing her for answers was just too much for her. She, herself wanted to scream and wail as well and curse the hells and heavens and most importantly the two idiots who caused this mess in the first place but she just _couldn’t_ . So she did what she at least _could,_ and made a run for it. She was desperately in need of a break.

That’s how she ended up at St James’s Park at one in the morning, wandering around in the moonlight like some pale ghost. Yes, this was definitely bearable (she did not dare say pleasant, after all, demons weren’t used to plaisanteries). Finally, some goddamn peace and quiet after days of noise that would crack even Satan’s skull in two. She quickly threw herself down onto a bench and took a deep breath from the fresh and humid night air. Oh yes, this was definitely bearable. Everything was in a certain state of idyll. The warm temperature caressing her skin free from all the grime and dirt of the Underworld, the slight breeze running through her hair, the moonlight illuminating the leaves of the nearby trees… even that dude feeding the ducks at the lake completed the aesth- wait, what? The Prince of Hell immediately jumped from her seat and stared at the figure who was apparently feeding the ducks and swans of the lake as if it wasn’t one am at noon in a completely deserted park. As she took the man’s silhouette in, she could feel a nerve twitch in her forehead. Of course it would be that stuck-up archangel! Apparently, karma never rests so she shall not either. Just as she decided to turn her back and silently sneak away, Gabriel sensed her and spun around his heels. Beelzebub was now standing face to face with the archangel Gabriel, but his usually scornful grin was missing and his lilac eyes were staring at Beelzebub in shock.

“Beelzebub?” he asked confused and she swallowed back the urge to correct him that it’s Lord Beelzebub. She knew that it would have been useless. Both of them knew that Hell would freeze over sooner than either of them called the other by their title.

“Gabriel,” she sighed exasperatedly. Her tone was a mixture of bored and annoyed. 

They stood there, eyeing each other varily for several minutes before finally Gabriel spoke.

“What on Heaven are you doing here? Are you spying on me, demon?” he demanded, his words full of menace.

“Keep on dreaming, moron,” Beelzebub waved dismissively but her voice lacked its usual edginess. She was not prepared for a round of mental chess with Gabriel, not today. She was way too tired. “I was just taking a stroll, checking up on demons in the nearby area.” it was a half truth but Gabriel didn’t have to know that.

“Oh, I see. No rest for the wicked, I assume,” he replied with a poker face and Beelzebub murmured an almost inaudible “you have no idea” under her breath.

“And you?” she asked awkwardly, almost in a machine like tone. The sooner they can finish this conversation, the sooner she can go back to being less-miserable again and maybe have a nice little nap on one of the benches before the break of dawn. But in order to get this moron off of her back, she needed to be polite and make a conversation, which generated a vicious cycle in itself but Beelzebub wasn’t surprised at all, that karma has once again proven to be a bitch. 

“I… came here to familiarise myself with everyday human activities, such as feeding the ravens,” it was a half lie but that was none of Beelzebub’s business. 

“Ducks,” she sighed. “They are called ducks. But why would you do that? At freaking one a.m.?” she regretted asking as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. It was none of her business, really, and at first, it seemed like Gabriel will tell her exactly that.

“I realized that… after an angel going rogue in such a manner… it might be better if I spent more time among humans… to make sure that no other angels fall victim to the temptations of the Earth… or a demon perse,” he eyed Beelzebub cautiously. She raised a brow in response. She just couldn’t wrap her head around it. The great archangel with a stick up his ass suddenly decides to engage in more human activities and keep a closer look on angels assigned to Earth. It wasn’t like him at all. He could have sent any of his lackeys like that frigid Michael to keep an eye on his “employees” and they would have done the job just as efficiently. Gabriel didn’t have to practice duck feeding in the wee small hours of the morning at a park, and Beelzebub was sure that he didn’t engage in these activities just for the fun of it. Also, Gabriel was the most practical angel she’s ever met (well, not that she met that many angels but still) and if there was a possibility to spare effort then she was sure that he’d take it.

Beelzebub fixed her eyes on Gabriel as if he was a difficult puzzle she couldn’t figure out just yet. The archangel stood there paper bag in hand, completely immobile under her gaze. Now, here’s the thing about demons; they are the masters of lies. They do it all the time, as casually as one would breathe air. Therefore, demons are not only exceptionally talented at fabricating fake stories but they are also rather capable of spotting one, and Beelzebub was no exception. And even though Gabriel might seem like an overconfident man to the untrained eye, the rapid moving of his eyelashes were a telltale for Beelzebub. Gabriel was hiding something. Which wasn’t surprising, considering that she could count all of their interactions on one hand and she was a demon to begin with so she wasn’t taken back by the fact that Gabriel had no intention of sharing whatever was on his mind with her. Not that Beelzebub expected him to or anything of the sort.

She ended up deciding against asking further questions about the ducks but she just couldn’t help and ask:

“So, how do the angelzz cope with it?” she didn’t have to specify what she meant by _it_ , both of them knew that.

“Uhm… rather well, I suppose. Most of them are back on duty, only some riots here and there but nothing that I can’t han-,” Gabriel replied, his expression still blank.

“You know I can tell you’re lying, right?” Beelzebub cut him off bored, already having enough of walking around on eggshells. 

“Fine. What do you want me to say, eh?” he spread his arms in a helpless gesture and shrugged. “That angels are going wild from the frustration? That they are angry, confused and sad but can’t show an ounce of it because we aren’t meant to feel these things? That they are going down to Earth just to terrorize humans and let out some steam? That I had to establish three - I’m not even kidding - new celestial laws in the past two days to avoid getting any angle or human killed? That’s what you wish to hear? Is it to your heart’s content, demon?” the archangel ended his rant on a sarcastic note.

Beelzebub completely ignored his question. “The demonzz are rioting too,” she said in a careless tone as if she hadn’t been insulted just a moment ago. “Sadly, they don’t go upstairs to wreak havoc among humans. They do it among themzzelves. Not of all of us got casted out for our smarts, y’know, a lot of demonz were just violent by nature,” she shrugged. “And now they are putting the whole freaking nation of the Underworld at risk, but of course when I happen the mention that, I get targeted and suddenly I’m the bad guy. Well, the good guy, I mean.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you are the leader of Hell, I suppose,” Gabriel shrugged. His words may not have been fueled with malice, but Beelzebub was already near a damn breakdown and she’ll be damned if this man wasn’t making her snap.

“You think that I volunteered?!” she asked incredulously. “You think that I brought this upon myself?! I wazz put in charge! I don’t know how things go up there at your place, Gabriel, but here, you don’t just refuze when Satan himself designates you a task! But sure, go on about evil containing the seedzz of its own destruction, do lecture me! Do hold my knowledge and leadership against me or how if I had been a dumber, I wouldn’t have gotten into thizz mess at the first place! Oh please do judge me for doing my job so damn well that now people have expectationzz of me that I can not meet!” she was practically shouting now, her voice buzzing like a hive of angry bees. Just an arm’s reach away, the group of ducks took flight with noise, frightened by Beelzebub’s sudden outburst. 

The archangel just swallowed hard. An awkward silence settled between the two.

“Good for you,” when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and small. “To know precisely that you are not the one at fault here.”

“What?” Beelzebub was confused now, but Gabriel didn’t elaborate. It took her a couple of minutes to put two and two together but when she finally got to the conclusion, she couldn’t stop an amazed “no way” escape her lips. Gabriel was blaming himself for the failed Armageddon! That’s why he wanted to keep an eye on the angles himself. He thought he was responsible for Aziraphale’s misguided concepts about needing to protect the Earth. Maybe, he believed that if he payed closer attention to the bonkers principality, he could have recognised the signs and could have stopped him. Beelzebub, who sometimes let bloodthirsty demons slip through her hands, knew that it wasn’t that simple. You can’t just recognise the signs because they are different for each individual, and most of the time, they are only perceivable when it’s already too late anyway. If she lost one of her flies for each demon that went wild and made a run for it without any preceding signs, she would barely have a dozen flies left. But Gabriel, of course, didn’t know that. It’s not every day that an angel turns against their higher operatives. Beelzebub looked at Gabriel who looked so lost and confused that she almost pitied him. Almost.

“It would have happened anyway,” she shrugged nonchalantly, though her insides already started doing that weird twisty thing they usually do whenever she is less harsh with someone for more than ten minutes.

“You really think so?” Gabriel asked, his whole expression lighting up with hope and relief for a moment before he actually caught himself and forced a neutral expression on his face again. It was utterly ridiculous but kind of… endearing in a way, Beelzebub came to the frightening conclusion. Which clearly signaled that she has been overstaying her short trip to the Earth and it was beginning to mess with her head.

“I won’t repeat myself or I might actually throw up,” she replied coolly then she took a step towards the archangel. For a few excruciatingly long seconds, they stared at each other with covert curiosity, waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, Beelzebub grabbed the paper bag from Gabriel’s hand, walked to the edge of the lake, turned the container upside down and dumped the rest of the seeds and crumbs into the water. She then threw the empty paper bag into the water as if she had no care in the world and made her way back to the flabbergasted archangel.

“It looks like you have successfully fed the ducks,” she said. “I guess this iz goodbye,” she mused sarcastically and the next minute, she was gone, leaving a shell-shocked and confused Gabriel behind.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time they meet is thanks to another escapist maneuver of Beelzebub’s and it is still all coincidental. She already felt his presence, even before spotting the ever so familiar light grey coat. Of course, in all damned London, there was no other place for this wretched idiot to go! Out of all the damned bars, this moron had to pick Beelzebub’s favourite one! She couldn’t understand; Gabriel was never the one to consume anything that had to do with humans. But there was no turning back now, she supposed and while Beelzebub was many things, she was not a coward.

She noticed when the archangel sensed her as well, his figure distinctly tensig, so she took the opportunity and took a seat beside him at the long counter. 

“What do I owe the pleasure?” Gabriel asked, staring straight in front of himself, his voice emotionless.

“Oh, don’t be so full of yourself to think that I was actually seeking you out,” the Lord of the Flies replied coldly. “This iz merely a coincidence… and a very unpleasant one at that.”

“Is that so?” the archangel replied raising a brow and then sneaked a glance towards her direction.

“Well, unless  _ you _ were seeking  _ me  _ out. In that case, congratulationzz, meathead, you found me,” she hissed back trying not to emphasise the voiced consonants too much and failing.

“I was thinking nothing of that sort,” Gabriel replied in a defensive tone. “I was just walking around and I happened to stumble upon this place, emitting a demonic aura so strong that I just had to go and investigate it. I think that tender of bars is one of your kind. He has been glaring daggers at me for the past ten minutes,” he concluded with a great deal of pride in his voice as if he had discovered a whole mafia of demons.

“Yes, it gives off demonic aura because it’s a bar, genius. And they are called a bartender and not “tender of bars”. He looks at you this way becauzze you’ve been sitting at this counter for more than ten minutes and still haven’t ordered a damn thing,” she said. Did Gabriel spend so little time on Earth that he had no knowledge of how bars functioned?

“O-oh…” Gabriel murmured in surprise. “This does explain some things…” he said while Belzebub just rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Though I am quite aware of how a social establishment as such works, thank you very much. I was talking about an emission of  _ exceptional amount _ of demonic aura around this place,” he corrected himself.

“It’s because it’s my place,” she said without missing a heartbeat.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel asked. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

Beelzebub took a deep breath. Oh boy, this archangel was one of the denser ones. 

“I mean that I frequent this place. Quite regularly if you must know,” she replied bored.

“Really?” he replied, flabbergasted. “You are consuming… gross human matter? I thought you were above that…”

“Only the booze. Alcohol is one hell of an invention, shame that it had nothing to do with us… Humans beating us again at the game,” Beelzebub shook her head disapprovingly. 

“They tend to do that, the clever bast- little things,” the archangel agreed gloomily. When the bartender swept past, Beelzebub beckoned to him and ordered some whiskey. She then raised a brow expectantly towards Gabriel who still shook his head and refused to drink anything. The Price of Hell shrugged nonchalantly and started sipping her own alcohol. Gabriel stared awkwardly at her, uncertainty clear on his face; he was visibly debating whether he should stay or flee. It took him only half of a minute to make up his mind since the archangel himself was nothing sort of a coward either.

“Soo…Two weeks since  _ it _ … any demons left in Hell?” he shifted on the black plastic barstool attempting to break the awkward silence somehow.

“More than I’d prefer,” Beelzebub sighed. “We have to keep them occupied… as long as they are occupied, they ain’t complaining. But it’s eazier said than done, coming up with jobz that actually have utility and require tasks to do.”

“And the paperwork,” Gabriel added sympathetically.

“Oh Satan preserve me, the paperwork,” Beelzebub groaned in exasperation and emptied her drink. The glass landed on the wooden surface with a loud thud but it was already refilled by the deft bartender who went about at an almost inhuman speed. When Gabriel blinked again (an unnecessary small habit that he subconsciously adopted from the humans), the bartender was already gone. “You have no idea. Dagon and I are doing our best but there is so much that two occult entities can do at once. Even if we don’t need sleep like theze guyzz do,” she gestured vaguely behind her back, towards the human patrons enjoying their own night outs.

“Lucky bastards,” Beelzebub finally said what seemed like a couple of minutes minutes spent in contemplative silence. “I envy them sometimes, you know,” she said mournfully.

“Envy is a sin,” Gabriel replied with his mouth on autopilot, forgetting that he was in fact talking with no other than the Prince of Hell who probably experienced (and encouraged) all of the sins that are out there.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” she replied bitterly. “But don’t you just ever look at them, chattering, going out, making friendz, breaking each other’zz hearts, loving, hating and everything that’s in between and you just… wish that you could be as blissfully ignorant as them?” the Lord of the Flies sighed, her eyes slowly glassing over. That’s when Gabriel registered that Beelzebub might have had a drink too many tonight but decided against mentioning it.

“No, that would be blasphemy,” he replied incredulously. “We are the superior beings therefore there’s no reason for me to be jealous of humanity,” he completely missed the way Beelzebub raised a brow at his reply.

“Oh c’mon now, you gotta hand it to them though; living your life like there’z no tomorrow and still not getting punished for it? I mean, Armageddon would have been a really good example for them to realize all the fucked of mess they are doing but I GUEZZ NOT ANYMORE!” she shouted the last words which immediately earned a couple of heads turning towards their direction but she ignored them. Gabriel didn’t reply, just scoffed in a disapproving manner. “Because of course, her Almighty’s plan is ineffable, isn’t it now? We’ll I’ll do you a better one. You know what’s ineffable? Humans going around on this planet spreading hate, violence, and bloodshed and the Almighty not punishing them anymore. But when an angel darezz to try and find the reazzon behind one of Her orders, and they just simply azzk, they immediately become fallen… Talk about righteousness am I right?” Beelzebub asked, her voice was echoey and veiled from the alcohol running in her corporal form. 

Gabriel stayed silent. In all honesty, every part of his angelic consciousness told him to commend Beelzebub for seeing the world this way. He should have contradicted her and started to enlist all of the good qualities of humanity, but deep down, in a very locked away part of his ethereal being, he also sympathized with the demon. He was also kind of… resentful towards humans since they were the Almighty’s favourite. No matter how big of a mess they got themselves into, the Almighty was always patient and gracious. But way stricter rules applied to angels with stricter consequences because while humans had a limited timeframe to go about their things whether they be good or bad or simply just human, angels had a whole eternity to consider. Angels constantly had to think of the  _ consequences _ , which would always affect more than one person. They could never just say “screw it” and drop out of Heaven and run off to let out some steam. Well, not until now, that is. And dammit, Gabriel was in fact, jealous! Jealous of Aziraphale, of the humans, of the Almighty for being able to mess around like that; without boundaries, without thinking of tomorrow, without consideration for the paperwork, without consideration for  _ him _ . Well, screw it, it was about time that Gabriel did something without consideration for them for once! 

He waved and the bartender was in front of him within the blink of an eye. He pointed towards the Prince of Hell’s empty glass who was staring at the wall with a bemused and definitely inebriated expression. He didn’t have to vocalize his request, a second later there were two glasses with whiskey on the counter and the bartender was gone again. 

Gabriel lifted his glass and turned towards Beelzebub who was staring at him now. Her gaze flickered towards the whiskey then back to his face as if she was making sure that her eyes didn’t betray her. Then a small sardonic smile spread across her face and Gabriel suddenly felt his corporal form missing a heartbeat (for whatever reason this body was malfunctioning, he couldn't figure it out). Finally, the Lord of the Flies lifted her own glass up, tilting it and clicking it to Gabriel’s.

“To humanity, I suppose?” she asked and her voice sounded just slightly smug. Gabriel made a face.

“To humanity," he sighed defeated then downed his drink in one go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for everyone who read this, gave kudos or commented on it, these are literally my lifeblood for this fic <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hippity, hoppity, guess who's back after four months of inactivity?  
> i'm so sorry that this chapter took so long, i'm struggling to find inspiration lately.  
> anyway, if there are still any IB fans out there, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter^^  
> as always, i'm immensely grateful to everyone who has read, commented or gave kudos to this small project of mine, your support is my lifeblood <3

Dagon, the infamous Lord of the Files has seen many things during her long life. She experienced everything from the literal creation of the Earth, through the Glorious Revolution to unwilling demons refusing to learn how to write and turn in a proper report. She was fairly certain that nothing in this world could ever phase her (when you work in the administration department it tends to be that way) but apparently, she was wrong. 

She stared at the plastic capsule in front of her as if it contained holy water. The capsule arrived through _the hotline_ as soon as she opened her office and started categorizing the reports of yesterday _._ _The_ _hotline_ was technically a long vacuum tube connecting the higher offices of Heaven and the lower departments of Hell, installed long before the Armaggeddon, to ensure that neither parties of the oncoming war would start the fighting and sabotaging too soon. If a handful of demons picked a fight with a couple of angels, Heaven could send a complaint to the head offices of Hell and those who committed the crime shall suffer some form of punishment, and vice versa. 

Dagon stared at the container warily, still unsure whether she should pick it up and deliver it or just leave it be. She could enlist on one hand the occasions when Hell had received such a capsule and it mostly contained angry words from angels… not this. In the capsule, she found one single black glove made from leather and a small note with fancy lettering which glowed in the dark as if it had been written with gold. A label attached to the capsule read “Lord Beelzebub” in that same curvy writing.

“What do I look like, a bloody postman?” she huffed disapprovingly and shook her head but set off in search of her superior anyway.

She only had to round three corners and found the Lord of the Flies in the midst of… stating an example, yes that’s what it’s called, Dagon recalled. But in reality, it just meant biting the head of an unlucky demon off who happened to fail at his job. 

“You pathetic excuze of a demon!” the Prince of Hell snarled. “I send you upstairs, with one simple task that even a human could accomplish and what do you do? Fuck it up, of course! Thiz temptation was so simple, it didn’t even require demonic powerz and you still managed to let that stupid human escape from you! You should curse your luck that I don’t throw you in a pot of steaming holy water right now!” she threatened and the poor demon suppressed a shriek and hung his head low. All the other demons in the corridor stopped moving and stared at the scene, most of them quivering in fear, but not daring to move and miss out on the drama. 

That’s when Dagon felt the right time to intervene.

“Hey, boss, there’s a package waiting for ya in the office!” she shouted cheerfully, making all the heads turn towards her direction. Beelzebub tore her gaze away from the miserable demon and assessed Dagon with a heated glare which was a warning in itself. The Lord of the Files suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Her boss has always been the one for theatre. She bowed low as she corrected herself humbly:

“I mean… a package has arrived for you, sir. It’s waiting in the office.” 

Beelzebub huffed in annoyance and made her way past Dagon and the other demons, heading for the Filing Office. Dagon quickly followed suit.

When the Prince of Hell closed the door behind them she let out a frustrated sigh. 

“What did I tell you about addressing me in public, Dagon?” she pinched the bridge of her nose as if the action would be enough to stop the stress flowing in her corporal form. 

“I know chief, I’m sorry, it slipped my mind,” Dagon shrugged, not looking sorry at all. “Is this show really necessary though? I mean, all the “Lords”, “Princes” and etc. Whether I use “My Lord” or “boss”, you’ll get it anyway.”

“You know why it iz necessary,” Beelzebub replied. “It is utmost important to preserve the authorial public image I have built up during the centuries. Now, at troubled timezz like theze, titles and power have even more significance. If these idiots out there even just smell that a demon can get away with something like that then my reign as a Prince of Hell is over. And would you prefer some holy-water brained idiot like Hastur in my position?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Oh Satan save us from letting Hastur in this office! Everything would be on fire within five minutes,” the Lord of the Files blanched ever so slightly. “He ain’t touching any files, only through my discorporated body!” 

“So what iz this package for me? I swear to Satan, if it’s another prank package from Leviathan, I’ll rip her throat out the next time I see her,” Beelzebub sighed and crossed her arms. “Juzt like that, without a warning.”

“Oh no, this one is more of a special package,” Dagon worried her lips with her teeth as she lifted the plastic capsule up. “It came through the  _ hotline _ ,” she tried to gauge her superior’s reaction but it was nothing what she expected. She thought that the Lord of the Flies would be confused maybe a bit worried even. What she did not expect for Beelzebub is to snatch the package right away from her, tear it open so eagerly, relief washing over her face as she made sure of the authenticity of the glove. She then lifted the piece of paper, her blue eyes quickly scanning through the lines. When she finished reading, she let out a huff of air and shook her head in disbelief. 

“That idiot,” she murmured it under her breath and Dagon would never believe it if she hadn’t just heard it with her own two ears but the Lord of the Flies who had just promised to rip out a demon’s throat a second ago sounded quite… fond.

Beelzebub looked up from the paper and met Dagon’s expectant gaze.

“Did you read it?” she asked, waving the note in her hand. Even though her voice wasn't threatening, Dagon didn’t dare to take any chances.

“It wasn’t meant for me, My Lord,” she said, her gaze fixed onto the floor.

“You are a demon, Dagon” Beelzebub replied with a blank expression. Dagon looked up and grinned, showing all her shark-like teeth in a wicked manner which answered Beelzebub’s question immediately. 

“So, what’s this all about, chief? Some mighty ass angel sending you back a lost glove? Been spending some time on the other side, haven’t we?" she asked, her tone full of implied suggestions.

Beelzebub looked down at the note, trying to avoid her employee's curious gaze.

“It’s not like that,” she sighed and hoped that she sounded convincing. But why would she need to sound convincing? It wasn’t like she was seeing the moron! They just always sort of happen to bump into each other at the same bar. Every Thursday. It was nothing like the scheduled meeting those two idiots had back in the days, sneaking past every divine and occult surveillance.

“Then how is it?” Dagon asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Beelzebub wasn’t sure how to answer that.

_ It was another boring Thursday night but every night is boring if you are a demon. That was the main reason for Beelzebub deciding - against her better judgment - that she needed a break this week. After resurfacing at St. James’ Park, she tried to deliberately switch off every worrying thought about the drama downstairs and get preoccupied with something else. Like walking. Yeah, walking sounded bearable. She closed her eyes and let her senses guide her through London. It was a sort of small game she took a liking to recently; she closed her eyes and relied on her other human and occult senses to navigate her through the city. Really, it was like switching a part of your brain off and it helped Beelzebub’s corporal form evacuate the stress accumulated throughout the week. If Beelzebub were human, she would have had three strokes by now from all the idiots raising havoc in Hell.  _

“I accidentally bumped into him at a bar,” she shrugged.

_ Of course her human senses would lead her to her favourite drinking place, it was only natural. It had nothing to with the angel who recently started to frequent the place as well, and always accidentally on a Thursday, the same day Beelzebub usually took a brake herself. She was not the boss of Gabriel (thank Satan!) and she wasn’t supposed to tell him where to go or what to do, he was his own free ethereal being, free to drink wherever the heaven he wanted. By this time, Beelzebub mostly got used to his angelic demeanor, hiding all the darkness behind a smile but his lilac eyes have always betrayed his thoughts. It wasn’t any different this night either; his gaze, clouded with worry, carefully assessed her. _

“We had a drink too many,” the Lord of the Flies admitted, visibly annoyed at her own involuntary confession. This wasn’t like some stupid heart-to-heart that humans did with their best friends! Dagon was far from a best friend to Beelzebub; demons didn’t make friends or label relationships the way humans usually did. They were more like warmates fighting in the same shitty trench for centuries so they inevitably learned and got accustomed to each other’s whims and caprices. But if Beelzebub had to choose one demon to stand by her side during this dumpster fire called the cancelled Armageddon then Dagon would be the only one suitable and competent enough.

_ It started out as a simple banter, the alcohol encouraging them to get a little competitive. Gabriel was talking about something along the lines of great responsibilities and the burden placed on him and so on, but the Prince of Hell tuned out the most of it. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in what he was saying but this was the third time in a row that she had to listen to the angel’s alcohol-induced monologue of self-pity and she was rather sick of it. _

_ “So, of course, now everyone believes that I’m…” Gabriel stopped mid-sentence as he realised that the demon was not listening at all. “But it’s not like you’d understand it anyway, you’re a demon,” he scoffed suddenly, hurt clear in his voice. _

_ Beelzebub turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. Gabriel (no matter that she knew how much a bastard he actually was) has always tried to remain civil so far during their encounters. It must have been the mutual understanding that gave the archangel the false feeling of security around the Prince of Hell which really shouldn’t have bothered Beelzebub that much but apparently the alcohol in her system told her otherwise. Because, in reality,  _

_ she found it miserably hard to cope with the fact that Gabriel appeared to… respect her. In Hell, respect was an invaluable product, everyone fought tooth and nail just to obtain it. Respect meant power and leadership and all the things that Satan’s empire was built on. Respect was to be fought for, relentlessly by not giving in to the other opponent, never wavering for a second. And for Gabriel, just to give it to her so simply… solely based on a handful of meetings throughout history, it was especially uncommon. And foolish as well, if it were anyone else than Beelzebub that he trusted. And now the archangel had implied that she didn’t understand… oh he will pay for it! _

_ “Shut up or I’ll rip your throat out,” she said in a casual tone trying to hide her annoyance. _

_ “I’d like to see you try,” Gabriel scoffed and straightened his scarf. This made Beelzebub freeze. Oh, if the angel is looking for a fight, he shall have one. _

_ “I don’t have to try,” she snarled, ready to reach across the table and shove the other off the chair. “I’m just as powerful as you are, and we both know it. So I suggest you think well through your next wordzz or your precious angel head might find itself beaten flat.” It would have been a shame to ruin this bar though, Beelzebub thought ruefully.  _

“So we held a challenge,” Beelzebub continued, trying to ignore Dagon’s eyebrow raising higher and higher with every word said. To determine who’s the more powerful one and all that but… it happened in a rather... unconventional way,” Dagon’s eyebrow was practically drilling through the ceiling now, towards an outer layer of Hell.

_ Well, they couldn’t actually fight; not now, not in here. The freshly made truce between the nations of Heaven and Hell were more fragile than a newborn antichrist and while both parties were eager to beat the other to the ground, it was to happen in a scenario where they would both be more prepared. Hell was one antichrist down and Heaven was still coping with Aziraphale’s disappearance. Before Beelzebub could come up with some alternative way of discorporating the archangel, he turned around in his chair and shouted: _

_ “Hey, you!” a human who appeared to be a large male specimen (one can never be sure with humans and all their different hairstyles) jabbed a thumb towards his own chest. _

_ “What? Me?” he asked, attempting to sound threatening but of course, no humans meant any real danger to them so Gabriel just stared down at him unflinchingly with a mixture of disdain and disgust. _

_ “Yes, you, the human with the long hair,” the Archangel sounded annoyed now. “What do humans around these parts do to determine who is stronger between two opponents?” _

_ The man stared at them dumbly for a second then exchanged some curious looks with his other comrades sitting at the table.  _

_ “He wants to fight,” Beelzebub sighed and jabbed a finger, her patience wearing thin by the second. _

_ “Oh,” comprehension lit up the man’s face. “Armwrestling, I guess?” he shrugged and turned back to his companions, therefore failing to catch the maniacally competitive flicker in Gabriel’s eyes. _

Dagon was holding back a grin. It wasn’t a visible one, but the Lord of the Flies knew that it was there and she wasn’t pleased about it.

“Stop laughing,” she grumbled but Dagon paid no mind to her, finally letting out the chuckle she was holding. 

“Sorry, chief,” she was clearly not sorry at all, Beelzebub wanted to point out but decided against it. It would have been wasted effort anyway.

“So,” Dagon was scratching the dry scales under her chin. “Did you win?”

“Well, what do you think?”

_ It was rather strange, this way of fighting. They were only allowed to channel all of their strength into their arms and while Gabriel proclaimed that Beelzebub was definitely going to lose due to her small corporal form, Beelzebub was determined to prove the Archangel wrong. After agreeing on the terms (one round, the one whose hand touches the table’s surface is the loser) and designating a judge (Beelzebub was sure that long-haired human didn’t laugh into their faces only because he was too drunk to move that many face muscles) they were finally ready to begin. _

_ Gabriel’s intense purple gaze bore into Beelzebub’s as the two of the most powerful mythical creatures in the universe fought their battle. But this wasn’t an ordinary challenge between two friends to decide who pays the bill at the end of the night. This fight had way higher stakes and the prize was the other one’s dignity. As both of their hands strained under the effort to beat the other, somewhere on an ethereal plane white wings clashed with black ones. They fought the battle on the ethereal plane as well, pushing and shoving each other’s wings to distract their opponent. It was one of the most magnificent battles of history or maybe it was just the booze making Beelzebub believe that.  _

“So you lost…” Dagon concluded from the passive-aggressive answer of his superior.

“Well… zort of,” Beelzebub mumbled in a low buzz.

“Sort of?”

_ That bastard was not playing fair and Beelzebub wasn’t surprised. Gabriel was using all of his arsenal to distract the Lord of the Flies. He kept complimenting her (the Archangel exactly knew that she despised when people said nice things even if they were about her), cracking jokes, winking and putting on his fake facade that Beelzebub spent oh so many nights at this very bar trying to peel off of him. And while these were the tricks of an amatuer, Beelzebub was struggling. Gabriel wasn’t so wrong when he presumed that she would have a disadvantage due to her height and her stamina seemed to slowly wear off. Her hands were sweating under her black gloves that should have guaranteed her an advantage but it just made her enforcing her power more difficult instead. In a world where physical matters were nonexistent, they would have been the perfect sparring match for each other. The perfect rivals, on equal levels. But of course, nothing on this Earth is equal so Beelzebub should have expected to draw the short straw in this situation as well. But she’d be blessed if she let that sly meathead triumph over her. So Beelzebub gave her all and decided to change tactics: Gabriel wasn’t the only one who could sweet talk if the situation required it. But her tactics were quiet transparent and were made more difficult by the fact that demons didn’t just go about saying nice things to people so the first thing that came out of her mouth sounded more like a snarky remark rather than a compliment.  _

_ “Your tie looks really… lilac,” she settled finally on the word. The shadow of confusion swept across Gabriel’s face but it soon lit up with recognition. _

_ “Is that so?” he asked smugly. “Well thank you. I guess I should return the favour.Your pins look especially shiny today,” he sad while was clearly struggling to keep a straight face and Beelezbub felt a sudden surge of need to put her fist in the archangel’s face. Gabriel was making fun of her! How dare him! _

_ “You fucker,” she hissed through gritted teeth but Gabriel kept smiling relentlessly and it started to give Beelzebub the creeps. Her patience was wearing thin just as her willpower to keep her gaze fixed on that bastard’s face for a minute longer. Nevertheless, she would not break first!  _

_ “Tell me, Lord Beelzebub is there anything else you fancy… in me?” Gabriel asked with a raised eyebrow and the Prince of Hell could feel her face heating up. It must have been due to the strain her corporal form was under, nothing else! _

“Well, boss, it seems like you ain’t that good at verbal combat,” Dagon amused.

“Shut up, or I’ll won’t finish the story,” Beelzebub huffed back.

_ The Prince of Hell has reached her breaking point, she could feel it. Gabriel’s last comment only confused her further but strangely enough, she was more bothered by the heat gathering on her face than by the comment itself and what it implied. This was all ridiculous and a waste of her precious time. If they couldn’t fight on even grounds what was the point of this little combat anyway? So the Prince of Hell did what her demonic instincts told her to do. _

“You broke a pitcher on his head?” Dagon asked astonished, forgetting even to blink for a second.

“Well, I suppoze it was more of a crystal carafe…” Beelzebub wondered, trying to sound lax. In reality, breaking the glass on the Archangel's head wasn’t as gratifying as she had expected.

“And you left him there… with a broken skull?”

“Don’t make such a fuzz about it, I’m sure he miracled his head back together moments later,” she shrugged as if the possibility of the opposite hadn’t occurred to her as well. Even though Beelzebub knew that Gabriel couldn’t technically die, getting a new corporal form was one heaven of a mess around these parts and if it was anything like that up there, then Gabriel was in for a bloody lot of forms to fill out. And filing was a punishment she only wished for her rarest and most fierce enemies.

“And the glove?” Dagon inquired, no more feeling threatened by Beelzebub.

“I muzt have lost it on my way out while performing the teleportation curse,” The Prince of Hell admitted.

“Well, I don’t know about you chief, but if this angel went through all the fuss of sending it back through the emergency hotline, despite you almost discorporating him, I gotta say, you should at least consider the bastard,” the Lord of the Files shrugged.

“Are you blessed, Dagon?! Az if I would ever fraternizze with anyone from the enemy!” Beelzebub buzzed in an offended tone. “I should demote you to cleaning duty juzt for suggesting it!” 

“It’s your decision boss, but after the whole Crowley and Aziraphale thing, I doubt that demons would be fazed by any sort of relationship between angels and demons. In fact, you won’t believe what I just heard about that bastard Ligur…”

“Enough of the gossiping, Dagon,” Beelzebub snapped suddenly. “You have wazted enough time questioning me about thiz stupidity! I suggest you go back to work or Satan help me, there will be a free zpot for you on the cleaning team next week!”

“Alright, alright, as you wish,  _ My Lord, _ ” she curtsied in a mocking manner. The Lord of the Flies headed for the door, passed the desk with piles of files on it, then the little chair that had a vase with wilted flowers. She placed her hand on the handle but turned back the last minute, as if she had forgotten something.

“Oh and Dagon? If you breathe a word about any of this to anyone...” she said in a voice that could put the fear of Satan even into any of the other Princes of Hell.

“I know, I know,” Dagon replied without looking up from the papers she started shuffling around. “Don’t worry about it, chief. My lips are sealed,” she reassured her then smiled slyly. “Now go and get that moron!”

It was a good thing that demons had rather refined senses, therefore the Lord of the Files could easily dodge the poor vase that was thrown in her general direction. As the bang of the door reverberated through the tunnels of Hell, Dagon shook her head disapprovingly and chuckled.

“That bastard Archangel will have to get used to that, that’s for sure,” she mused then started humming a tune as she headed for the Cleaning Departement to get a broom. This day was starting to get interesting.


End file.
